Under My Skin
by Liberdade
Summary: The new Repo girl has had a good year doing a thankless job...until she is seen in action by a sly dealer who knows how to wrap a girl around his finger. OCxGrave, a bit of Grilo. rated M for future chapters.
1. Scalpels and Sinatra

Okay, be nice, this is my first fanfiction. XD

Meet my original character, Natasha Montoya, Repo Extraordinaire! And fret not, there is a bit of Grilo, my fellow fangirls/boys.

* * *

**_Chapter One_**

It was the still of the night.

Well, as still as it could get in this damned city.

"_My funny Valentine…Sweet comic Valentine…you make me smiiiile with my heeeaaarrrt…_." A soft voice sang.

Humming between lyrics, Natasha took off her bloody surgeons gloves and gazed down the dark alleyway. No one. Of course, no one would be there. She always made sure her victims were alone and couldn't be saved.

Natasha Montoya, the name of the new Repo girl lurking the dark streets of Geneco's city. When she looked at her reflection in her scalpel, she herself could barely believe it herself. Her big, brown eyes, pale, round face, pouty lips and button nose belied no malicious intent. She was short; barely 5'1, and petite, a sharp contrast to the old Repo man.

Most people didn't know she was barely 19.

Barely 19 and the darkest fear in every scalpel sluts mind.

"_Your looks are laughable, unphotographable…but you're my faaaaavorite work of art…_."

She put her surgeons' tools away, cleaning them as she went with a small sterile handkerchief.

The repossession business was no longer a flurry of scalpels, a brute ripping out of the organs. No, it was much more complex than that. The 'Repo _man_' was dead, everyone knew it. People were just…dropping dead now.

The underground knew what was really happening. The repo business still persisted, despite Amber Sweet's consoling promises of a new, kinder way of business at Geneco.

The Repo girl had to be precise, or at least enough to fool someone who found the body. She'd cut the persons throat, use a new salve that bonded _just _the skin back together after the person was on the ground in pain and dying, and would work just as quickly as the original Repo man had. She'd cut out the organs with precise incisions, and then replace the organ with a synthetic, nonworking organ realistic enough to fool even the best medical examiner (not that she should really have to do that, being that the police around here _work _for Geneco, not justice.). A little salve there, then on the cut up skin, and the job was done. Not quite as bloody as before, but hey, she still sang a little as she did her job.

Natasha straightened her little corset tied over a black wifebeater and walked out of the alleyway, tossing her hair over her shoulder confidently.

"_Is your fiiiiigurrrrre less than Greek? Is your mouth…a little weak?_"

A newspaper blew by her. "Mysterious deaths, new sickness…or new Repo man?" the headline read. She raised an eyebrow. She took it no one has seen her. Good. She didn't bother wearing a bulky helmet or a mask like the last Repo man, just a surgeons mask to keep any spraying blood from infecting her with god-knows-what these junkies have nowadays and comfortable clothing.

"_When you open it to speak, are you smaaaart?_"

She took off her surgeons mask, forgetting it was even on. It was just so darned warm, and no one would look twice at someone wearing a mask nowadays.

"_But doooon't change your haaaair for me…not if you caaaare for me…_"

Little did Natasha know she was actually being watched from the least expected way she could have ever imagined…from a dumpster.

"_Staaaay, little Valentine…staaay! Each day is Valentine's day_."

* * *

Short, I know. Thats just the first chapter. I already have 18 pages of the story done, ladies and gents. XD


	2. Let The Monster Rise

Natasha finally got to her lavish, near manor home. Funny, she actually lived near the old Repo man, Nathan Wallace. She had always thought him a little creepy. She had seen Nathans pale daughter, Shilo, from her window…and had seen her daughter sneak out to the cemetery. Natasha was not stupid…no, far from it. That's why she was chosen as the new Repo man. She knew what Nathan was doing, long before that slimeball Rotti Largo aired it to the world like a gossip girl to use to his own advantage. Keeping his 'sick' daughter away from the world…Natasha shook her head at that idea. She had seen 'sicker' folk out on the streets, living their lives. Natasha never got mixed up in it though; she learned at a young age to stay out of other people's business.

After Nathans death, Shilo still lived at the house. Natasha had seen Shilo moving out furniture and picture frames…and at one point, what looked like a corpse. She shuddered, despite her occupation. Was Nathan Wallace really keeping a corpse that looked freakishly like his wife in the house?

Natasha had actually begun talking to Shilo. Mostly because Shilo had one day sat on the rooftop below her bedroom window and played Fear of the Dark by Iron Maiden, and Natasha _loved _Iron Maiden.

She had pulled out her own guitar and grinded out the tune with Shilo, making Shilo came down from her perch and strike up a conversation with Natasha. Turns out they both loved some hard rock, always wanted to be rock stars, same age…Shilo was doing pretty well for herself. She was working with a library, cataloguing books (she confessed it was mostly to get complete access to books about bugs, her freaky fetish). When asked about how she could do that without an education, Shilo laughed and said "My dad homeschooled me. I have a higher education than most of the kids who went to public schools and I didn't even know it until I went through his files and saw I had a high school diploma when I was 14."

Natasha took that, and also thought 'they probably recognized her from a newspaper and took pity on her.'

Natasha stripped off her clothes and stepped into her claw foot bathtub, turning on Moonlight Sonata for piano by Beethoven as she went on her bathroom stereo. She had a stereo in _every _room, her music love a near obsession. She had to have music. Always. Even if it was just in her head.

The hot water eased her muscles and seemed to soak down to her bones. She went underwater and stayed there for about 20 seconds.

Images flashed in her head, as they always did after a job. The look of desolation on a victims face as she sliced their throat with the most emotionless face she could muster.

She was wrong about before. She did wear a mask like the last Repo man…only this one was of a monster, someone who didn't feel pain after taking another's life. The monster was cold, merciless, and precise. This monster lasted only as long as the mission did. After that, the human came back…and wept on the inside at what she had become. What she had done…an unforgivable sin. One day she would get over it…one day the monster that whispered in her ear when she wasn't slicing and dicing could take complete control, as it wanted. After two years, she still wanted to be herself. The monster could wait.

Natasha got out of the bathtub and wrapped herself in her plush black robe, then walked down to her kitchen, dark, shoulder length hair done up in a black clip. She pulled down a glass and filled it with ice, then sweet Lipton's tea, and was beginning to walk to her living room to sit down and watch late night black and white television (which was already on…she loved to walk in when the show is already on for some strange reason. Maybe it just felt like someone was waiting for her arrival with open, grey arms.) when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Natasha gulped and looked around. Her house was big and dark, but she knew it like the back of her hand.

Now, Natasha Montoya is not a ninja. She is not even a black belt. She knows how to take someone down just long enough to slice a deep cut in their throat. She was always so careful to make sure if someone DID see her 'at work', they couldn't follow her home. She was thankful for this, otherwise she wouldn't be able to work her legs into the sculpted limbs they are. She quite liked her legs looking athletic, not custom cut for skinny jeans.

Other than for superficial purposes, it was also to prevent someone from attacking her in her home. You'd think a killer could handle someone without a weapon…well, not her.

Pathetic, she knew, but she was a musician, artist, and scholar. Not a fighter. She didn't grow up saying 'I want to take peoples organs!'. Far from it…she grew up a pacifist.

Back to the present, Natasha's jaw clenched and she walked to the living room and sat down stiffly, sipping her tea.

"Nice place you have here."

She nearly screamed and slammed her tea down, jumping up. She went white as a sheet as the blood drained from her face. "Who's there?!" she cried, putting on her best tough face.

A man stepped out from the shadows of her living room, behind a miniature cherry blossom tree she had oh so smartly placed by the door. He had probably seen her walk in, do her dance of victory, put away her tools, turn on DJ Sammy and dance around as she got tea and went up to take a bath. Oh, how _embarrassing. _

She gulped as she looked him up and down. He was pretty tall, but then again, everyone was tall to her. Handsome, in a creepy, 'I like to hang out in bone yards' way. He was built like he could probably hoist a body or two with ease. Dirty, tattered clothing, even dirtier hair streaked with colors, pale skin and black lipstick-

Oh hell, a Z junkie?

She saw the glowing blue vial sticking out of his trench coats pocket.

"Get the hell out of here, you stinking druggie." She snapped, putting her hands on her hips.

"A murderer is gonna chide me for drugs? This is rich." He said and grinned, crossing his arms and looking amusedly at her huffy face and hands-on-her-hips gesture.

She wrinkled her nose as she smiled inside at his grin. 'Stop being such a girl, he looks way older than you and HE IS IN YOUR HOUSE CALLING YOU A MURDERER!' her conscience said. Natasha clenched her jaw again and stepped back. "Murderer? I don't know wh-"she started, but he walked so quickly towards her she didn't expect it. He pushed her down on the couch and leaned over her, his arms still crossed.

"You don't really think I'd be here if I didn't watch you murder a man. Don't get me wrong, you're a beautiful little piece of work, but I don't need to follow a girl home to get a little action."

She found her jaw dropped a little during his completely shameless confession. "Wh-wh-w-"Natasha began stuttering, an embarrassing habit she received from her father when she got scared or nervous.

"Natasha Montoya, you're the new Repo man, aren't you?" he said, eyes sparking with malice. He just wanted her to _say it_.

She tried to duck around him, but he put his arms out and blocked her escape, putting both hands on either side of her. She sighed and looked at him…but this time with her 'Repo eyes'. Cold, dead, expressionless.

"If I'm the Repo man, you're not a smart man." She said in a low, gravelly voice, and she could have sworn she saw a little fear in his eyes. She took him by surprise by shooting her hand out at his throat, wrapping her tiny hand as far as she could around his neck. He grabbed her arm and wrenched it off, but she was ready for that and used her leg to kick him in the groin. He stumbled back and she got up, fled to the victrola where she kept her scalpels with lithe speed, and was armed with two scalpels when he got up. He looked at her warily.

"Shouldn't have underestimated me." She simply said and looked at the door. "Now get the fuck out and never come back."

"But honey, you don't even know my name." he said and grinned again. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side.

"One night stands don't need to know each other's name, sweetheart." She said just as sarcastically.

He was behind her before she even registered what happened. He snatched one of her scalpels from her hand and stuck it in his pocket, then whispered by her ear "The Graverobber. If you want to see me, you know where to find me."

She spun around to slice his gut open, but he was gone. The front door was open. She could still smell his scent of freshly dug earth and sweat.


	3. Blackmail in E Minor

It had been a whole week since the Graverobber incident.

She counted. 7 days. 7 days since a creepy, good looking Graverobber strolled into her house claiming he knew she was the new Repo man.

Natasha closed her Encyclopedia of Imaginary Places and sat up from the couch, an exasperated look on her face.

Outside of Repossessing, she had nothing to do. Well, she loved it, being able to read and draw and play music and chat with Shilo, but it left her a lot of time to think.

She looked to her right. In front of the television was a large, digital 'blackboard'. The screen was black and in neon blue, she had written down notes on the incident and what to do.

'He must have seen me repossessing that night. Somewhere in the dark alley he was hiding and watching me. He must know how to follow people closely…ex-spy maybe? No way, too dirty. Zydrate druggie/dealer, too. Maybe that's why he's so good at stalking. He got into my house without me knowing. Maybe just a really creepy dude. What does he want? He has to have a reason to want to make me know he knows I'm the Repo man. He took one of my scalpels…bastard! Nothing else taken, checked everywhere. Not even _money_. What a strange dude. Meet him at the cemetery…maybe. I have to know what he wants before he starts plastering pictures of me, outing me as the Repo man!'

Meanwhile, in the aforementioned cemetery, Graverobber sat on the shoulder of a cement angel. He was twirling and observing the scalpel stolen from Natasha Montoya.

'What a mystery. I had expected her to be…well…not a she, at all. He would have thought another tall, strong guy, maybe even scarier and not a softie on the inside. Why would Amber Sweet hire a tiny little thing like her to take up the brutal business of Repossessing? Maybe to throw people off…no one would suspect someone like her, for sure.

She was almost fragile looking. Her face reached his chest, and what a face! Round, with a carefully tapered chin and soft features that turns the sharpest shadows gentle and caressing. She was almost childlike…almost. There was a pull in her movements, as if every step was carefully measured; her dainty hands and feet calculating what would happen if this were placed there. He'd barely talked to her and he was already trying to figure her out!

The Graverobber rolled the scalpel between his index finger and thumb. She was hot, and he reduced his interest in her to that. Hot and cold…so cold were those eyes. Only when she pulled that mask of a murderer was he fully convinced she was the new Repo man.

He shook his head and groaned. He hadn't gotten laid in _forever. _Amber Sweet couldn't do Z much anymore, so he couldn't get any action from her. All the other junkies would try, but he'd snap out of it when he realized they were only doing that to sneak the Zydrate from his pocket and he'd have to shove them away. None of them were as pretty as say, Shilo, the little piece of jailbait from his past or…or Natasha Montoya.

She was getting under his skin at a rather alarming speed.

Natasha pulled on a black knee-length dress, tight black pants, and neon blue buckled black boots. She was shrugging on a hooded black and blue zip-up jacket when she heard knocking at her door. Natasha stuffed a wrapped up scalpel in her jackets front pocket and walked to the door, thinking 'surely he doesn't feel the need to knock now that he knows a way to get in.'

She pulled her hair up in a little ponytail, letting her chin length bangs frame her face, and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, showing a black wristband on both arms (hiding wrapped mini scalpels…her boots held a couple too, but she wrapped them up a little more for comfort as she walked) as she walked down the stairs to the front door.

She opened the door and her eyes widened in surprise. "Shilo?" she said, eyebrows rose. Shilo smiled and waved shyly.

"Hi Natasha." She said with a beaming smile. "Where are you going?" she said, looking at Natasha's outfit. "Have a date?" she said in a low, excited voice.

Natasha looked down and shook her head vigorously. "No, no. I'm just going to go visit someone. What's up?"

Shilo looked around, then, with her eyes, asked if she could come in, it isn't safe to speak out here.

Natasha, even more surprised now, stepped back and let Shilo in.

Shilo straightened her black t-shirt and put her hands in her grey jeans back pockets, a little anxious.

"I just came to warn you…about this guy." Shilo said, looking down. Natasha raised a brow at her anxious shifting of feet.

"He…I know who he is, he helped me out back when…you know." Shilo looked up at Natasha, and Natasha saw the pain that still plagued poor Shilo. Natasha nodded.

"He…he's been around here. A lot. At first I thought he was here for me. We talked a little after the Opera, but he hadn't talked to me since. Then I noticed he would walk past your house, looking in the windows as if expecting to see you or something. It was very creepy to me. Sometimes, he would look angry. Especially the past couple of days. "Shilo said, beginning to murmur a little, as if embarrassed. Natasha could tell she must like the guy…and she knew exactly who Shilo was talking about.

"The Graverobber?" Natasha said in a clipped tone. Shilo looked up, surprised, and nodded.

"Thanks, Shilo. You can hang around here if you want. I know you like my h-"Natasha said, and then laughed when Shilo took off into Natasha's kitchen. "I should have said _kitchen_, not house."

"I'll be back later, Shilo. See ya!" Natasha shouted and took her leave.

Natasha arrived at the cemetery in less than 5 minutes, flashlight out and ready. She didn't even have to sneak. The Geneco cops wouldn't shoot her around here; _they _all knew who she was. She just had to make sure they didn't see her talking to The Graverobber. That would _not _be good; the Repo girl and The Graverobber talking? No way. That sounds like a twisted Bonnie and Clyde.

"Come fly, fly away with me…" she heard a singsong voice croon above her. She gasped and shined her flashlight straight up to where the voice resonated from.

The Graverobber seemed to disappear into the darkness for a moment.

"GAH! What the fuck, woman!?" she heard after a rather comic _thump. _She shined her flashlight to where the thump came from…directly below the concrete angel statue he had been perched on. He was getting up, dusting off his trench coat, a rather irritated look on his face. She tried to hide the laugh that was crawling from her throat.

He looked at her and glared. He saw her trying to contain her laughter and didn't like it _one bit_.

"Back to business." He said, as if they had been conversing before his 'fall from grace'.

"Sure. Why the hell do you care if I'm the new Repo or not?" she said, putting her free hand on her hip. She saw him twirling three different scalpels in his fingers. Her jaw dropped open as before.

"How…did you…!!" she gasped, then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into a mausoleum nearby.

He grinned and grabbed her by her shirt, turning her so she was against the wall. Suddenly he was holding several scalpels.

"You didn't really think you could hide these little buddies, did you?" he said, smirking. She clutched the front of his trench coat and forced him against the wall, grabbing the scalpels. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up by her arm. She was surprised to find her feet actually leaving the ground. Their faces were suddenly close.

"Don't try to fuck with me, Repo." He hissed, and she noticed she wasn't breathing.

"_What _do you _want_?!" she shouted in his face. He seemed a little startled for a moment, then raised a brow and grinned. She saw his eyes flicker down for a moment and rolled her eyes. "Let me go." She snapped.

He lowered her down and released her wrist from his vice grip. He bore his teeth in a smile that told her he was only letting her go because he wanted to, not because she threatened him with her tone of voice.

Natasha wrinkled her nose at him and put the scalpels in her front pocket, angry as hell. Forget coopera-

"I want you to work with me."

What?

She looked at him incredulously.

"What…?!" she said, then laughed. "Sure, I'll work with you. I'll kill and let you suck the fucking Zydrate from the corpses nose, fresh as _ever_!" she said and covered her face with one hand. "Oh, that's rich. Really. That's flipping rich."

"Do you know how big the angry mob would be if they knew the location of the Repo?"

She stopped laughing.

"…You…you…" she began stuttering again. She backed away from him. He leaned back against the mausoleum wall she had shoved him into before and crossed his arms in success.

She suddenly drew her head up, jaw clamped together tightly. "And who would believe you, Graverobber?" she said coldly.

His eyes narrowed. "You'd be surprised, Repo girl." He said, flashing a cold smile. She suddenly had no doubt he'd bring a mob of angry, vengeful lost souls down on her in one night if she didn't do what he wanted.

"How can I be sure you won't double cross me?" she said brusquely.

He smiled and pushed off from the wall. Her muscles tightened and she was ready to get the hell out of the way. He was an inch from her in less than a second. She looked up at him, eyes big and confused.

"Assassin, murderer, monster. You accuse me of double crossing? I should be afraid of you _killing _me. You don't have to worry, little girl. I'll keep my promise if you keep yours."

He turned, and she was reaching for her scalpel when he said "Oh, and if you do kill me, I have a junkie who will know and tell everyone who and what you are. And where you live, of course."

She gasped. "You bastard, you told!" she screeched and jumped on his back, grabbing hair, and wrapped an arm around his neck in a chokehold. He grabbed her arm and yanked it from his neck, then reached back and grabbed a scalpel from her front pocket. She held her breath, eyes wide, blood leaving her face.

"They won't tell anyone. Trust me." He said, then turned her wrist so it was palm up, looking at the blue veins so clearly visible under her pale, nearly translucent skin. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden thought that popped in his mind and smiled, then pressed his lips to the soft patch of skin.

She gasped and wriggled her arm, trying to get free, her eyes wider now. "Let go of me!" she cried and he laughed, letting her drop to the ground. She was about to pummel him with fists when he seemed to move, yet again, too quickly, and was nowhere in sight. She looked around.

"He stole my scalpel again!"


	4. Blood Sonata

"It's a thaaaankless job, but _somebody's _got to do it, like a mop and broom…no one wants a thankless job!" sang Natasha 'Repo' Montoya as she cleaved into a young man of _maybe _20. She was rubbing the salve on the cuts when she heard a slow clap.

She looked up, her big eyes large with surprise. Then she saw Graverobber standing over her on top of a dumpster, looking down at her with mild amusement and a mixture of…something else.

"What the hell are you doing here, Gravero-oh. Stupid me, you want to get some glow, don't you?" she said, and motioned to the body. "Well, here you go." She said, her nose wrinkling. He hopped down from the dumpster, narrowly missing her. She growled and stepped back, looking him up and down, the monster mask on, times ten. He looked at her warily as she held the bloody scalpel in one bloody hand, the other gripped around a kidney.

She smirked and put the kidney in her organ box, cooling it to keep it fresh for Geneco. He grimaced then knelt down by the body, stuck a sterile syringe up the corpse's nose, and extracted the glowing blue Zydrate slowly.

She shook her head at him. "I can't believe my life is on the line so a druggie can get a high."

He scowled and looked up at her. "I don't do Z. I just deal it."

"That's so much better." She said, voice dripping acid. He smiled a big, fake smile with malicious eyes and said "I know."

She pulled off her gloves and mask and bundled them up, looking anywhere but him, and picked up her organ box. He rolled his eyes and put the vial of Zydrate in his jackets pocket, hurrying after her.

"What do you want? You have what you came for. You got what you want. Go threaten someone else's life." She said coldly, the monster mask slowly slipping off.

Graverobber furrowed his brow, not sure how to respond.

"Yeah. I have you pinned down. You look down on me for what I do when you do the same thing, just not with your _own _hand!" she whirled on him, throwing the bundle of bloody plastic in a trash can down the street from where she had 'done her job'.

She saw a tic in his jaw jump. "I bet you fuck the junkies who can't pay you. God, I'd rather die than screw for drugs!" she said, and his eyes widened.

A growl formed in his throat and he grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall. "Don't say things like that, Repo. You may end up-"he looked her up and down "In the same situation one day. Fuck or die."

He felt her heart begin to hammer against her chest through her jugular. Good. He had her scared.

That's when things changed. He barely registered he'd been stabbed until he tasted blood in his mouth. She straddled him, leaning over so her mouth was next to his ear. If he hadn't been in so much pain, he would have been _extremely _turned on.

"I bet you've put plenty a girl in such a situation, haven't you, Graverobber? Only _they thought _they were dying, and they didn't have money, so you said 'I'll give you life if you fuck me'. You're sicker than Rotti, Pavi, Luigi and Amber put together, because hey, they are more _honest _than you are."

He winced, his eyes closed tightly. This girl…she was truly vicious. Amber Sweet was smarter than he thought. Maybe she had seen the wickedness in Natasha that he couldn't.

Maybe it was a girl thing.

That was his last thought before the abyss claimed him.

The first thing he saw was a ceiling with splashes of black and blue painted on it. Then a crystal black chandelier.

The Graverobber groaned as he sat up. He noticed two things:

One, he was shirtless, with bandages carefully wrapped around his abdomen.

Two, that he was honest to god _clean._

Someone actually BATHED him.

He had a sudden image of Natasha in a bathtub with him, her back against the tile wall, him between her legs, her arms around his neck…

He shook his head. 'She STABBED you. She almost killed you. Forget the bitch and leave.'

No. It was harder to get to the corpses in the graveyards now. Amber seems to want Graverobber in custody for some reason…maybe just to flex her power, or to make a name for herself by catching his snaky, notorious self.

Plus, she seemed to be seriously loaded. He had gone to a pawn shop to see how much one of her precious scalpels was worth…Money. Lots of it.

Heck, maybe he could gain some kind of immunity from the Genecops by being around her.

He heard a soft gasp and looked up from his thoughts.

Shilo Wallace stood in the doorway of the bedroom, which he now looked around. Everything was blue, black, and every pastel in between. He noticed lots of sketch pads and several different instruments, including a grand piano. The room was humongous. He also noticed his clothes clean and neatly folded next to the bed on top of an Encyclopedia of Imaginary Places.

He drew his attention back to Shilo. She was…wow. Hot. He mentally smacked himself, reminding himself that she was terribly young…but that didn't seem to stop _her. _

She ran over to him and hugged him, careful to avoid his stab wound. "I've missed you so much, Graverobber!" she said, and he noticed her voice was a little ragged, as if she were about to start crying at any moment.

He hesitantly hugged her back, somewhat confused. How big of an impact had he really left on this girl? _That _question was answered when he pulled her back and looked her in the eyes.

He was a fragment of her past, the whole ordeal with her father and Geneco. He had always been there, like a guardian angel. He saw her looking at him in such a manner.

"Hey, kid, calm down." He said and her look changed, suddenly furious.

"Kid? Kid?! My god, I'm 19, Graverobber!" She said, then pulled herself up onto the bed, suddenly with a leg on each side of him.

He pulled back, ready to scramble away from the not-so-jailbait-anymore-but-off-limits girl if she went any further.

"Look at me, Graverobber, and tell me you really want to _treat _me like a kid." Shilo said, pulling her face up close to his. He found himself conflicted.

Shilo was…well, fucking gorgeous. And very doable. Very, very doable.

"I'm still a virgin." She whispered.

He gulped, his eyes wide. Oh man, she was not helping him stay an honest man.

To add fuel to the fire, she began to take her shirt off, exposing her very-19-year-old upper body.

Oh how he wanted to take her into his arms and ravage her like a starved animal, such as he felt after no sex for so long. He balled his hands into fists, pressing them into the mattress. It was so hard to resist, the beautiful Shilo ready and very, very willing to help him transform into the animal raging inside.

They heard footsteps come down the mahogany halls. "Shilo? Are you in here?" they heard Natasha shout. Both of their eyes widened and Shilo pulled on her shirt quickly and scrambled off of him…but not before giving him a quick nip on the lips, a mere promise for what's to come.

He was slightly dazed after that, but the sight of his near killer brought him crashing back down the reality.

Natasha was holding a rolling pin, flour dusting her leather pants and black wifebeater. There was more flour on her arms and a smudge right on the tip of her round nose. She looked to Graverobber and wrinkled her nose. He couldn't contain it as he began to laugh at the utter insanity. His near killer looked like a little gothic newbie chef! That image could put him through even the toughest of times. Tortured by Genecops? He'd think of this moment, seeing her wrinkle that flour-tipped nose as if he were the one looking downright hilarious.

"I think he's gone off his rocker, Shilo. Let's get out of the crazy mans room pronto. You still need to teach me how to…what were we doing?" Natasha said curtly.

"We weren't…using…a rolling pin." Shilo said, trying to suppress her laughter. Natasha's jaw dropped open.

"I…thought…." Natasha's cheeks turned bright red.

"Natasha. We were making _soup_."

That set Graverobber off again, laughing so hard his stitches were dangerously close to coming out.

"OH! YOU!" Natasha lunged at him, rolling pin ready to beat him into a Graverobber pancake.

5 minutes later, Shilo had Natasha in the living room and Graverobber in the kitchen, helping her make soup.

At first, Shilo and Graverobber didn't talk…but then they both began talking at the same time and the ice was broken with awkward laughter that turned to genuine laughter at the awkward laughter.

Natasha turned out not to be as bad as she had been to Graverobber. Shilo told him about the night Natasha first began to talk to her, and that piqued his interested more. So, they were _both _musicians. Very sexy. He grinned a little at the thought of the two playing electric guitar to Ozzy Osbourne's 'Crazy Train' on a stage.

She then told him about the harder times, like when Natasha found Shilo passed out in the family mausoleum, overdosed on god-knows-what. Natasha had nursed her back to health, and instead of snapping at her for trying to kill herself, sympathized with her. She understood why Shilo tried to do it, and while she didn't approve, she didn't try to give her some big speech about how life was precious and how she would have gone to hell.

Graverobber slowly found himself growing more fond of the crazy Repo girl. Shilo topped it off with "Oh, and you know, she was nearly in tears when she got home with you tonight. I had to stitch you up for the most part because Natasha was just sitting there, rubbing her face and mumbling. I'd only seen her that messed up one time, and tha-"

Graverobber had stopped stirring and was looking at Shilo intently, curious as all hell, when he heard Natasha a few feet behind him. He turned around and saw her leaning against the wide door less frame of the kitchen that opened up to the living room, arms crossed, head tilted onto the frame and looking down.

"That was the time my mom's dead body was shipped to my doorstep."

She laughed suddenly, making both Graverobber and Shilo jump.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she had actually asked to be sent like that. She had such a love for theatrics." Natasha said and looked up, beaming a caustic smile.

"She was sitting in a rocking chair, holding a photograph of me, my mother, my brother and my father. The drama queen must have asked them to make it look like she was looking at the photograph, because that's exactly how she was posed. As if she was looking at that _stupid fucking photograph_. I have no doubt she died that way willing. She was fucking…psychotic." Natasha began to crack on the last few words. Shilo began to move towards her, but Graverobber held her back. He knew what Natasha might do.

She proved him right as she slammed the side of her fist against the doorframe and stalked out of the house.


End file.
